"Matt, look!"
"I see it, Kate." Matt reached out and grasped the
strange–looking apparatus in front of them, adding,
"I'm just not sure what it is?"
Kate brushed past him. Grabbing onto the same bar he
still held, she shook it soundly. "It's a ladder. Anyone can
see that."
"It's not like any ladder I've ever seen."
Kate studied the mass of steel beams and cross bars
intently. The rather crude contraption resembled something
constructed from a child's erector set. Crisscrossing upward
the girders went at least two hundred feet in the air. Or
more. Straight up.
"I'm going to try climbing up these beams," Matt told
her. "You wait here."
"No way, Matt. You're not leaving me behind."
He paused, as if he wanted to argue the point. Yet when
he started forward she followed closely behind and he did
nothing to stop her.
Slowly they climbed, one section of beams at a time.
With each step they took, each rung they climbed, Kate's
trepidation grew. A million questions buzzed through her head.
What's happening here? Why are we climbing this thing?
Exactly, where are we?
"Matt?" she called out.
"Yeah, Cricket."
Kate let the slip pass in favor of asking, "What if we
really did get transported somewhere? Other than Madame
Olga's attic, I mean."
"That's not possible."
"Then how do you explain a maze larger than your average
attic, and climbing this ... this ladder? We're getting
nowhere fast."
Matt sighed deeply, and then stopped a moment to press
his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.
An old habit. Kate steeled herself against the memories
conjured up by even the simplest of Matt's gestures.
Luckily, she didn't have time to dwell on the past before
they were moving again. Onward and upward. Higher and
higher. Just when Kate thought they'd never reach the top,
Matt stopped.
"We've made it, Kate!"
"Made it where?"
"To the top of whatever. There's a trap door."
"Can you open it?"
"I think so." Matt flattened his hands against the metal
door and pushed. Nothing happened. "This isn't as easy as it
looks. Maybe you'd better lend a hand."
Reaching out Matt took hold of Kate's elbow, pulling her
up to the next crossbar until they shared one rung, their
legs touching thigh to thigh. Turning her around so that she
stood balanced in front of him, Matt pressed her hands flat
against the small, metal square and fanned his own hands
over hers.
Kate closed her eyes and let the overwhelming heat of
Matt's body wash through her. Nothing's changed. He can
still jerk your heartstrings with little more than a touch.
"Okay, Kate, on the count of three, we push. Got it?"
"Yes, I've got it."
"One," Matt began, "two, three."
At his mark, Kate pushed with all her might. Against her
arms, Matt's muscles bunched and strained. With a second
effort, and then a third, they displaced the heavy lid and
slid it to one side. Together, they stepped onto the next
rung and poked their heads through the narrow opening.
"Holy Pulitzer Prize!" Kate exclaimed.
"What the hell?" Matt said at the same time.
"What is all this, Matt?"
"I'm not sure, Cricket. I've never seen
anything––"
Like the beam of a maritime sentry, a wide and bright
light swept over them, temporarily blinding them,
instinctively forcing Kate backward and into Matt's arms.
The beam swung to the left and then to the right,
illuminating a vast room filled with blinking lights and
computers. The high tech set up resembled something straight
out of Star Wars.
"Where are we?" Matt wondered in a hushed whisper, his
lips hovering close to Kate's ear. The eerie uncertainty of
his question sent a chill down Kate's back.
"More importantly," Kate responded, her voice filled
with a nervous excitement, "when are we?"
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